


here to help (no matter what)

by flowersandsunshine



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post LWW, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:00:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28227279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersandsunshine/pseuds/flowersandsunshine
Summary: peter has been the leader of his siblings for so long now that he forgets to let them take care of him sometimes, too.(or, peter gets sick, and his siblings take care of him.)
Relationships: Edmund Pevensie & Lucy Pevensie & Peter Pevensie & Susan Pevensie
Kudos: 25





	here to help (no matter what)

**Author's Note:**

> requested by anonymous on tumblr! thanks for sending in the request - i hope you like it :)

“Take care of your brother and sisters, alright, dear?” 

Peter nodded as his mum kissed his cheek briefly and gave him a tight smile. “Of course I will,” he said quietly, helping her put her coat on. 

“Thank you,” she said, clearly relieved as she gave him one more quick hug. “I’ll just be gone for a few hours. A storm might be coming in, so be careful. Stay warm.” She clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Look at me, worrying about you. You’re all but grown up, and I’m still fussing over you like a mother hen.”

Peter smiled at that—if only she knew how grown up he really was. Or, well, had been. “We’ll be careful,” he said. “Of course.”

She nodded and, with a wave, was gone.

He watched her go before turning around and walking back into the house. It was chilly even inside—the snow was falling in large flakes and the chill seemed to seep into the very bones of the house. “Su, do we have any tea?” 

Susan came around the corner, bundled in a very warm coat. “Lucy wanted to go outside and play in the snow.”

Peter paused. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. It’s coming down hard outside, and Mum wants us to be careful.”

“Come on, Peter,” Susan said, pleading slightly. “She wants to act like a kid, and that’s…”

“That’s what?” he asked after a moment. 

“That’s slightly admirable. I think we all could act like kids for a little bit.”

Peter took a deep breath. “Well…”

She beamed. “Lucy! He agreed!”

“Hold on—”

“Oh, good!” Lucy’s face suddenly appeared around the corner, followed closely by Edmund. They were both in coats and boots. Lucy had a bright red scarf around her neck, highlighting her pink cheeks as she beamed at him. “I thought we could make snow structures.” 

He sighed. “Okay, fine. Where’s my coat?” 

“I have it,” she said, bright, passing it over to him. 

“I guess we’re going to play outside.”

“Like children,” Susan said. 

He smiled at her. “Like children.”

Edmund was the first to throw snow. 

Peter gasped as a cold snowball hit his back. A little bit seeped into his collar. He turned around and pointed at his brother. “Oh, you’re going to regret that!” 

Edmund just laughed and skipped away to hide behind Lucy. 

“That’s not going to save you!” Susan exclaimed, immediately jumping onto Peter’s team. She picked up a handful of snow and threw it at Lucy. 

She ducked, and it hit Edmund in the face. 

Peter laughed before a snowball hit his arm. 

“Oh, it’s a war!” he exclaimed. 

Suddenly, snow was flying every which way. Peter was ducking and dodging, laughing as a snowball flew right past his face, gasping as one hit him immediately after. He was throwing snow, some of it not even packed into a ball, laughing, helping Susan up when she slipped, shoving Edmund a little when he ran into him. 

It was a little bit magical, he realized as he ducked another snowball. It felt like they were actually children again. 

Suddenly, he slowed to a stop. He was heaving deep, struggling to breathe as he laughed and held his hands up. “I have to… we have to stop,” he gasped, a smile spread across his face. “Truce.”

“What’s wrong, Peter?” Lucy asked, a teasing glint in her eye. “Too old to run around with the kids anymore?” 

He just laughed and sat in the snow, the wet immediately seeping through his coat and pants. His legs were freezing after just a couple of moments. 

“We should make snow angels!” Susan lay down next to him and put her arms above her head, moving her limbs back and forth, creating an imitation of an angel on the ground. 

Without answering her, they all lay down. 

Peter quickly made an angel and stood up to observe. “Well, there I am,” he said, his voice a little wry. “High King Peter himself. A child.”

“You look lovely,” Lucy said, slipping her hand into his and smiling up at him. “Like a real king.”

He laughed. “And what about yours?” 

They turned and found Edmund getting up from his snow angel. “I can’t do it like you all,” he complained, looking back and forth. “How come yours look perfect?” 

“You have to get up in this certain way—” Susan started. 

“Oh, are you telling me what to do?” 

“You asked!” she laughed. 

He smiled. “I don’t need your help!”

“Su, Ed…” Peter started. 

“Oh, they’re just teasing,” Lucy said. “Let them tease.” 

He watched as they argued and Susan demonstrated how to make a perfect snow angel before turning to Lucy. “Want to build a snowman?” 

She nodded and they got to work. 

“Does this feel a bit like… like Narnian air?” 

Peter wiped the snow from his eyelashes and continued packing the snow in. “What do you mean?” 

Edmund and Susan stopped bickering to listen as Lucy spoke. 

“When it snows, it just… it feels like the kind of fresh, new air Narnia always had. Smell. Take in a deep breath.” Lucy closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “That’s fresh air. That feels… young. Like anything is possible, and we could do anything.”

Peter took a deep breath and nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I miss it,” she said quietly. Her hands lay idle on her large ball of snow. “I love Mum and England, but…”

Edmund placed a hand on her shoulder quietly. She smiled up at him. Peter saw tears glistening in her eyes. 

“We should go inside,” Susan said after a moment. “We’ve been out here for a while, and…”

“And it doesn’t really feel right,” Edmund said. 

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, but…” 

Peter nodded. “Lucy, do you want to put your part of the snowman on my part?” 

She heaved it up easily and dropped it on his. “Should he be smiling?” 

“Of course,” Peter said. “Why wouldn’t he be?” 

Lucy smiled at him and drew a smile on the snow. “There. Now he’s happy. Maybe someone will see him and give him some friends.”

They all stood staring at their creations for a moment. 

“Come on, let’s go in and drink some tea,” Susan said. 

And they all turned and followed her. 

Peter took his coat off and hung it up above the radiator carefully. His clothes were also wet, but he supposed if he had to drip throughout the house, he would. 

“Peter, are you all right?” 

“Hmm?” He looked over at Lucy. “Yes. Why do you ask?” 

“You’re trembling.”

He looked down at his hands. They were, in fact, trembling slightly. “Oh.” He frowned. “Well, don’t… yes, I’m just cold. I’m going to get dry.”

She gave him a worried look but nodded. “Come back down for some tea. It should warm you up.”

He nodded and made his way up the stairs towards his bedroom. Stripping and pulling on warm, dry clothes, he sat on the edge of his bed for a moment and took a deep breath. 

It pinched a little at the top of his chest. 

He turned and looked at his pillow. It just looked so inviting, so… peaceful… 

He lay down and sighed. “Yes, this is better,” he muttered, closing his eyes for just a moment. He took another deep breath. “Just a moment.” 

“Who are you talking to?” 

He opened his eyes briefly and smiled a little bit at Edmund. “Nobody.”

“You alright, mate?” 

Peter nodded and sniffed. “Just fine.” He closed his eyes again, grateful for the relief against the light. 

“I’ll be right back,” Edmund said after a moment. 

“Alright.” 

When he opened his eyes again, the light had completely changed, and all three of his siblings were sitting in his room, talking in hushed tones. “Hullo,” he said, confused. He attempted to sit up but we hit by a coughing fit. 

Susan was instantly at his side, pushing him back down. “Rest,” she said, quiet but firm. “You’re sick.”

“What happened?” 

“You fell asleep in the middle of the day,” Edmund said. “Very concerning. So I went to the girls and we realized you were ill and needed us to take care of you.”

Peter glanced down at his arms and frowned. “Who put my pajamas on me?” 

“I did,” Edmund said. “So you would be more comfortable.”

He sighed and his head hit the pillow. “I’m sorry, everyone,” he said, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. “I… I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry about?” Lucy asked, perching on the end of his bed. 

“Mum told me to take care of you, and I… I let her down. And I let all of you down.” He ran a hand over his face. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I got sick. I…”

“It’s not your job to take care of us,” Susan said. “We have all been adults and now how to take care of ourselves.”

“Plus, you can’t even take care of yourself,” Edmund said, tapping him on the shoulder lightly, his smile teasing and voice fond. “How are you supposed to take care of us?” 

Peter laughed, his breath a little bit wheezy. He winced as sharp pain went through his chest. “Oh, ow,” he muttered.

“Oh!” Lucy jumped up. “We have soup heating up for you! I’ll go get it!”

“Is Mum home yet?” Peter asked. 

Susan shook her head. “Is that okay?” 

He nodded. “I would hate to worry her.”

“Peter…” She lay her hand on his shoulder. “Listen to me and hear my words.”

He felt frozen as he stared up at his sister. 

“You are allowed to be ill, or hurt, or worried, without thinking about our feelings. You are allowed your feelings and your grief and… anything you may feel. We might worry about you, yes, but you wouldn’t want us to hide our own pain from you, would you?” 

Peter shook his head. 

Susan smiled. “So why should it be different for you?” 

“Because I’m the eldest,” he said, knowing deep down that he was being stubborn. “And the High King.”

“Oh, stop,” Edmund said. “That’s ridiculous. You may be the High King, but that was in a different world, at a different age, at a different power level. You’re our brother, and we care about you.”

“It’s true,” Lucy’s voice piped up from the door. “You should let us worry about you for a change.”

He looked between his sisters and his brother, all their faces peaceful and kind. “You… you all really mean this?” 

They nodded in unison. 

“Peter, we want to know you. Not whatever version of yourself that you think we should know.” Susan pushed his hair back from his forehead. “Now. Sit up, and drink your broth.”

He laughed and struggled to sit up. 

Edmund helped him, leaning him back against his pillows. 

“Can you eat by yourself? Do you need help?” Lucy asked, coming over and handing him the bowl of soup. 

“I can do it,” Peter said. He reached out and took the soup. The liquid sloshed around slightly as he struggled to control it. 

“Let me help,” Edmund said carefully. He picked up the spoon with broth on it and looked at Peter expectantly. 

He sighed and nodded. “Thank you,” he said quietly. His cheeks were warm, but whether it was from the heat of the soup or from embarrassment, he was unsure. 

“We’re here to help you, too, Peter,” Lucy said. She placed a soft hand on his head and bent down and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead. “No matter what.” 

He nodded. “Thank you all.” 

“No problem.” 

They all smiled at each other and Peter felt the pain in his chest ease just slightly. 

“Hello!”

“We’re upstairs, Mum!” 

Helen walked up the stairs and into Peter’s bedroom, stopping dead in her tracks at the sight that met her eyes. “Oh, hello,” she said. “What’s going on here?” 

Peter smiled at her from his place on the bed. “We’re playing chess.” 

“All of you together? Isn’t the game meant for two people?” 

He laughed. “Ed and I are playing. We’re doing rather a tournament style of the game.”

“I’m playing the winner,” Susan said, watching with keen interest. 

“And I don’t care,” Lucy said cheerfully, rushing over to wrap her mum in a big hug. “Welcome back! How is our aunt?” 

“She’s doing well, and she sent over some food and gifts for us all.”

“Gifts?” Susan asked. 

“Food?” Edmund asked. 

Helen laughed. “Yes, but the gifts will have to wait a few days more until Christmas.” She winked at Peter. 

He smiled. 

“How did things go here? Why is Peter in bed?” 

“Well…” He coughed slightly and grimaced at the rattling sound in his chest. “I actually… uh, well, I got sick. And they’re taking care of me.” 

“Oh.” Helen came over and placed her hand on his forehead. “You are rather warm.”

“It was my fault,” Lucy said, biting her lip. “I suggested that we go play outside. You know. In the snow.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Peter said. “It can’t be your fault that I got sick.”

“But it was my suggestion!”

“He’s right, darling,” Helen said gently. “It’s not your fault. These things happen.” She smiled at Peter. “Are you all right?” 

He shrugged. “I will be. Right now, I’m just trying to rest.”

“Have you had soup?” 

He nodded. “They’ve done a great job playing nurse.”

“My wonderful children,” Helen said, smiling around at the other three. “Thank you for taking care of your big brother.” 

Peter’s eyes filled with unprompted tears. “I’m sorry I didn’t take care of them,” he said. “I wish I had been able to, like I promised you.”

“Oh, Peter. You don’t have to feel bad that you got sick.” Helen stroked his cheek briefly. “I’m just grateful you’re alright.” 

He sniffed and nodded. 

“So, Mum…” Edmund hesitated. “Is our aunt alright?” 

“She’s doing well. She misses you all, of course. And your father.” 

They all got quiet at the mention of their father. 

“I miss him,” Lucy said after a moment. 

“As do I,” Helen said. “Perhaps this is the year he will come home.”

“We can wish,” Susan said. 

“And we can pray,” their mother added. 

Peter nodded earnestly. 

“Well.” Helen stood up. “I’m going to go get into more comfortable clothing and make some tea. I’ll be back.”

“Thanks, Mum,” Peter said. 

She smiled and left the room. 

“Can we pray to Aslan?” Lucy asked as soon as she was down the stairs. 

“Yes,” Edmund said immediately. He reached out his hands. 

Peter took one of his, and Susan’s on the other side, and soon, they were all joined together by the hand.

“Well, High King Peter,” Susan said, a teasing smile on her smile, “go ahead and pray.”

He laughed and bowed his head. “Aslan, we know you are powerful and good…”

Helen looked into the room a moment later and smiled to herself at the sight of all of her children, holding hands, bowing their heads. Peter was talking quietly, clearly praying, though she couldn’t make out the words. 

“Yes, please, Lord,” she said, almost imperceptibly, before sneaking away again, leaving the children to themselves for just a few more minutes.


End file.
